The Confrontation At Khazad-Dûm

I hate Freud because I think he's telling the truth

I don't need to be told I'm an animal trapped in a booth

That's a metaphor for a much lazier writer

In real life I'd get my ass kicked, but never in street fighter

Raps a big pool where's the deep end I'll just wade in

Disappear into the underground like a cone-headed Raiden

I post lectures off temple on monotone laden maiden who's raving he's about to go super saiyan

Son Goku scribed overly wordy haiku's about how I'd rather run instead of fight you

You betchum I'm Ash Ketchum with no Raichu

I kill them with kindness

And just to spite you I have no enemies

Just people who aren't my friends yet

And when they are I'll barrow moneys and never repay the debt

On the freeway you passed me in a bright yellow corvette

And I was peddling a whirlybird invention that I stole from some bloke at the ugly nerd convention in Lowell

It's the return of the king

The third Lord of the...

I don't have a hip-hop career

I have a hobby

Which leaves me unloved like a younger brother Bobby

I'm gathered around grandmothers in a knitting group

As vegetarian at the potlucks so I can only eat the soup

I'm a crummy musician not a conjurer of cheap tricks

I can't purchase a quirky beat at Jo-Anne's Fabrics

I'll never be commonplace with these slow dance mavericks

I could've been a lounge singer in a themed sports bar

Perused my Pokedex to find it wasn't in my cards

I'm beginning to find satisfaction with Futurama repeats

Open folder, my life, program file, dignity, delete

This is for my cats who are obligatorily finishing undergrad

To the the perfect sons for their wonder dad's

I'm no German Wunderkind

I'm a brown kid with a healthy distrust in Republicans

My stomach warns me when trouble is a bubblin'

This is for my brothers slaying mental Balrogs

And my sisters who have to deal with proverbial ball-hogs